The Magical Tale of the Mischievous Malfoys
by YouGotPhoned
Summary: Everyone has been jinxed! Harry's in love, Hermione's confused, FredandGeorge are stuck together, and Ron is... well.. you'll see. Mild HD slash, only hinted at. Just some... gazing fondly. Rated T for language and ...er... innuendo. OOC, but for a reason
1. Wonder and Weasleys!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: I don't own the people or the places or the things. I just made up the story. Really, people, would I write fanfiction about my own characters? I don't THINK so. The things I stole from my friends will be listed at the bottom.

This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Don't be too harsh, but if you think its funny/good/needs improvement, comment.

Chapter One: Wonder and Weasleys!

With a faint _pop_ and a cloud of lavender smoke, a tall, skinny, model-icious blonde man appeared. He found himself standing before…(dramatic music)…a….house! Not just any house, however. A house of magic. And wonder. (Yes, you read right. WONDER.) It was not particularly stately in appearance. It seemed to be held up with invisible props, and the chickens scuttling around it were less than majestic. But that was where this particular Malfoy chose to be.

Thinking to himself, he wondered where his son could be. _Where is that spiky-haired boy that's known as my son?_ He mused. (See? What did I tell you? That's EXACTLY what he was wondering.) _He'll be along shortly to help me, I suppose. NOW! To business! _He thought into the dark foggy night. _Soon, all of this will be mine! MINE! Well… not the house. Or those curtains. Why would a MALFOY want those curtains, I ask! They have cornucopias on them! But yes, indeed, the people will be at my mercy! _"Teeheehee!" He laughed out loud. "No, that's not it. Tahaha? No… almost… MWAHAHA!….there we go."

_Scene change, arrr!_

There was something in the air in the Weasley household that morning. This was exactly what Molly (Better known as Mrs.) Weasley was thinking the next morning, as she bustled about the kitchen. Or rather, she wasn't bustling. She was trying her best to bustle, but she couldn't manage it today. What she was really doing was creeping very slowly, as if in slow motion, around the kitchen, making breakfast for her family. It was just the boys and Ginny and Hermione this morning. Arthur (Better known as Mr.) Weasley had been at work for the past six months, but Mrs. Weasley insisted that he was just _late_.

She was ALMOST halfway across the kitchen when her youngest son, Dear Ronald, came bounding in. "Yo, wut up homedawg," He said. "I been hurtin' fo' sum breakfast dis mo'nin, yo."

"I…don't…know…what…you're…tal…king…a….bout…" Mrs. Weasley began, when her twin sons, Gred and Forge- er, excuse me- Fred and George- Came rather awkwardly, side-by-side, down the stairs.

"Mum!" They shouted in unison. "Something happened! Someone came and jinxed the house and now we're stuck…." They continued. They were interrupted, however, by Ron's uncontrollable outburst of what sounded like Shakespeare quoted Ebonics.

…Meanwhile, upstairs…

Harry Potter, a now-almost-constant presence in the Weasley home, was residing in a long-forgotten Weasley brother's room. He had taken up just sneaking out of the house on Privet Drive whenever he got tired of the stupid muggles. This time, he had hitchhiked, taken a bus, and run, Forest Gump style, to the Weasley home. He was just wondering why it was so pleasant to wear robes instead of pants (Remembering old Archie at the Quidditch World Cup and his night-dress… having a breeze 'round your privates really WAS nice, he supposed), when Hermione burst into his room in all of her bushy-haired glory. She was laughing hysterically. She began to explain to Harry that her cat, Crookshanks, was dead. Laughing harder than ever, she recalled the dreadful event, including the details of how it happened, which included a swarm of gnomes, several kitchen knives, and a lot of hairspray. Harry, however, was not interested. "As much as I love hairspray, Hermione," he stated, I really must be getting downstairs. I'm lusting for a muffin."

The two teenage witches- er… teenage witch and teenage wizard- headed downstairs. As soon as he saw Ron, Harry pulled him into a hug. "OH, HOW I'VE MISSED YOUR RED-HAIRED, FRECKLY, GANGLY AWKWARDNESS, DEAREST RONALD!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yo're damn crunk too, H-dawg," Ron said, flashing his gang sign. (W for Weasley.)

Mrs. Weasley was creeping towards them, holding a tray of food. She offered it to Harry and Ron. "Muff…..in?" she asked, quite slowly. "Or…Jell….o?"

"No thanks, Miz Weeeeeeeeeezly," Harry sang, and turned back to Ron, engaging him in conversation once more.

Meanwhile, Hermione, obviously very amused, was crying at the twins. "Oh, FredandGeorge!" She sobbed. "You're so… so… so… (sob) FUNNY!"

It was at this overwhelmingly bizarre moment that Ginny Weasley came downstairs. She confusedly looked around at Harry, who was gazing fondly at Ron. Ron was quoting Ebonics Shakespeare again, this time at Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley, however, was still going in slow motion around the kitchen, holding her tray of muffins and jell-o, and watching Hermione. Hermione, positively bawling now, was embracing FredandGeorge, who, Ginny observed, were enjoying themselves immensely. She also observed that they were rather stuck together. She then watched in horror as Hermione released the twins and became exceedingly interested in Fred (or maybe George?)'s left bicep, crying all the while.

Something was most definitely wrong.

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So! That was my first chapter. As soon as I figure out how to put it into chapters... Lol. Read/Review!

"Jell...o?" stolen from Grape-Juice's story Lizard Bits.


	2. Raves and Ronniekins!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: No, I'm not J.K. Rowling in disguise. No, these are not my characters. Yes, these are my ideas. Happy happy. (Please don't sue me.)

Thanks to Megan, I have my first comment. Golf clap for Megan. :clap clap clap.: Everybody else should review it too… 'cause you're cool, right? Right?

Chapter Two: Raves and Ronniekins!

The two Malfoy males were back, safely home. Having jinxed the unsuspecting family and their guests, they thought it might be time to have a rave.

But before the raving began, they sat down and had a man-to-man talk. About how totally SCANDALOUS their jinxes had been!

"Like, ohmygosh!" Draco gushed to his father. "Did you see how BAD I got that nitwit Potter! He falls MADLY in love with the second person he meets on each day! I thought about having it be the first, but, 'The second person you meet each day' has such a better ring to it, don't you think!"

"Like, Yeah, Sonny Boy!" Lucius exclaimed to his giggling son. "And those twins? They were already, like TWINS! Now they're stuck together. Isn't it FABULOUS! And that mudblood Granger, she's totally befuddled!"

"Yeah, dad! That's just swell!" Draco said enthusiastically. "They won't know what hit them! I'm not QUITE sure what jinx I put on 'Dear Ronniekins' though, we'll just have to wait and see!"

"Quite so, quite so," Lucius concluded. He then continued, "Don your surgical mask, Sonny Boy, It's time for a… RAVE!"

The Malfoy Males then proceeded to rave like there was no tomorrow.

Scene Change, Booya!

(We pick up where we left the Weasley family last, having an awkward moment in their kitchen.)

Ginny stood, staring at her family, her mouth agape. What the hell was Ron saying? Why was Hermione so incredibly interested in her twin brothers? And why, oh why, did it appear that Harry was madly in love with Ron?

"Am I the only SANE one around here! What happened to you guys? You weren't like this last night!" Ginny stated.

"Jus' keepin' it real, yo," Ron eloquently affirmed.

"Hehehe! Isn't it MARVELOUS!" Harry giggled, and quickly went back to gazing at Ron. Having not had much relationship experience, he usually kept his flirting within the limits of gazing fondly and laughing at everything his object of choice said.

Mrs. Weasley, having now figured out more or less what was wrong with her, now chose to speak in three-word-or-less sentences. "To…day….Di…a….gon…Alley?" She spluttered.

Ginny took the reins of this conversation and said "That will be quite nice. Everybody go get your stuff, we're going to Diagon Alley. Hermione, stop crying, and get away from Forge's arms. Harry, get your act together! Stop giggling, for God's sake! Ron, take that ridiculous necklace off!"

Ron, slinging a familiar looking necklace on a thick gold chain around his neck, prompted this last comment. The necklace had, emblazoned in gold letters, "My Sweetheart" written on it. "Dis mah bling, yo! Don' make me take it off!" He shrieked, which sent Harry off on another fit of giggles.

"Fine, have it your way, then," said Ginny, now totally exasperated. We're going, anyhow." She strode over to the fireplace and proceeded to drop a handful of green powder into the flames, yelled "Diagon Alley!" and off she went.

The rest of the family, however, found this simple task most difficult. Ron went after Ginny, shouted "Diagon All-izzle, yo!" He found himself, a bit later, in the fireplace in Hagrid's hut.

Harry, amid fits of giggles, spluttered "Diagon Alley!" He, moments later, found himself in Knockturn Alley once again.

Mrs. Weasley was in the fireplace, ready to shout her destination. She, however, only got out "Di…" before she disappeared in a large WHOOSH of flames. The family never really did find out where she went. Somewhere in Ireland, they suspected.

FredandGeorge were next. They crammed themselves with some difficulty into the fireplace, but did get to their desired destination.

Hermione had the most trouble. She jumped right into the fire before she had

thrown the floo powder in. Her robes were badly burned, but she did get to Diagon Alley right after FredandGeorge, and proceeded to examine their fabulous pectoral muscles while weeping.

And that's the end of that chapter, folks!

Read/Review!


	3. Diagon Alley and Dares!

The Magical Tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: Mmmmmm yeah I don't own this stuff. But I do own my ideas. Unless you want to write fanfiction about my fanfiction, and then I would be honored.

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY REVIEWERS:

To Megan, of course, who's my expert on what's funny and what's not. Pretty much everything is, right? Lol! Keep throwing up those gang signs, Ron. I'll probably use your idea, and give you credit for it… in later chapters.

To Rayeness, GiantPsychoticRabbit, and MackenzieRain: Thank you so much! I'm glad you guys like it, you should keep reading. It can only get better!

To Everybody else who hasn't reviewed yet: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!

Any suggestions for additions to the story/funny things that could happen, go ahead and email me and I'll try and include them, if they're funny enough!

Chapter Three: Diagon Alley and Dares!

Now, the majority of the Weasleys and their friends being in Diagon Alley, they set off on their magical journey to buy magical magic-making products. (Ron got himself out of Hagrid's hut eventually… he just went back the way he came. Mrs. Weasley was still somewhere in Ireland, they supposed.)

Ron was quite intent on visiting a store called "Hog to the Warts: All your GhettoFabulous Wizarding Suppliez!" but Ginny steered them all towards Madam Malkin's. Ron took advantage of Harry's amorous intentions with him. While Harry was having his robes fitted, Ron used his newfound flirting skillz (They came with his personality change. Don't ask.) to win Harry…'s money. "Hey H-dawg… shorty, you too much! You got me damn trippin', boo!" he flirted. Of course, Harry giggled and fell for it. Later, in secret, he offered Ron the majority of his Galleons. This caused Ron to disappear for quite some time. All of the Weasley family- except Ron- bought robes at Madam Malkins. (The twins had a lot of trouble, considering their stuck-together state. They had to have specially-ordered robes that would soon be delivered to their place of residence.) Ron, however, who had disappeared soon after acquiring Harry's money, appeared later, wearing very stylishly ghetto baby blue velour robes and a large, heavy cubic zirconia-encrusted R slung around his neck. They also got word that he had inquired at Ollivander's about having his wand (and one of his teeth) gold-plated.

Having bought their magical clothing, they proceeded to the magical potion shop, where they all bought their ingredients for Potions with Snapey-poo. Ron was quite keen on the gold-plated, diamond-encrusted vials, Harry, however, was incredibly interested in the ones with little purple hearts. Hermione, still sobbing, was trotting alongside the twins, engaged in conversation, totally ignoring her shopping.

And, Mrs. Weasley was still in Ireland.

The family proceeded onward to Flourish and Blotts, where they bought, basically, the same book, only up or down a level at a time. Hermione was positively bawling when she walked in, and was surrounded by her favorite things- books. The shopkeeper had to pull her outside, for her tears were simply spurting out of her eyes, in dangerous range of the books.

At the pet shop, Hermione inquired as to a new cat. She started laughing hysterically while trying to explain Crookshanks' unfortunate situation to the owners. She walked around for what seemed like hours, sobbing one moment and snickering the next. She was obviously in a rather neutral mood. She walked away, toting a new cat, with a perfectly straight face- apparently sad because of Crookshanks' horrible demise, but happy that she had a new cat. The obese cat, appropriately christened "Heffalump," waddled around all of their ankles as they proceeded down Diagon Alley.

Ron was freestyling, Harry was giggling, and FredandGeorge were flexing their muscles (While Hermione watched, howling delightedly), when they came across the Mischievous Malfoy family. (Well… the Malfoy males, that is.) The blonde gentlemen were sniggering softly, talking about how bad they got somebody back for getting them in trouble. All of the Weasley party was incredibly confused while the Malfoys crept into Knockturn Alley.

Once again, the end to another chapter! (This one was shorter, sorry. I didn't really have time to write bunches. Summer homework sucks…

Read/Review! Please!


	4. Aprons and AEMO!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: Blargh. I don't own this stuff. I wish I did, but I don't! And no, I'm not gonna pull a Michael Jackson and buy JKR's rights to things when she dies…

With the help of French Silk Ice Cream and Megan's pestering, the fourth chapter is up! I'm gonna write about my dilemma below my story. Ok? Read it, email me with what you think.

Chapter Four: Aprons and A…EMO!

A week in the Weasley household had passed since they journeyed to Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley was still not back, but they were doing just fine with Harry's cooking. He was often to be seen with one of Mrs. Weasley's frilly aprons and a chef's hat, cooking up some fine-smelling dish for breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner, or supper. (Anne: Don't forget dessert! A fine array of cakes, tarts, pies, and puddings.)

Harry had, by now, fallen in love with all the members of the Weasley family, plus Hermione. Hermione enjoyed it thouroughly when he liked HER, however, when he moved on to FredandGeorge, she was less than pleased. Ginny, despite her previous infatuation (and the snogging in book 6), was extremely peeved with the situation.

Ron continued his freestyling, ghetto Shakespeare, and velour-robes-and-bling-wearing. The residents of the Weasley home were getting used to his manner of speaking, and even speaking that way themselves, abandoning all British pretenses.

With 12 hours to go before the train left for Hogwarts, the entire household was in an uproar. Things were being packed, things were being lost, things were being found, and things that no one knew existed were appearing out of nowhere. (Such as, no one knew that Harry had a feather duster before his replacement of Mrs. Weasley took over. He less and less frequently took off the frilly aprons, and took to calling everyone "Dear".) (When Harry wasn't wearing an apron, he donned girl pants and tight, little boys' t-shirts with pictures of superheroes on them. His ugly school shoes were replaced by Converse and Roos. His round glasses were replaced by black, plastic ones, and his hair was messily styled into a Conor Oberst-type arrangement. He was really rather attractive, if you like that sort of thing.)

The flying Ford Anglia had returned, so they took it to Kings' Cross station. They filed out of the car, and ran through the barrier. Ron and Hermione, being prefects, had to go monitor the halls. Ron had abandoned monitoring for good behavior; he was now monitoring for not enough/too much bling. Hermione wasn't really getting ANY monitoring done, as she was busy crying at the twins with her arms wrapped around them.

While all of this was going on, Harry was sitting, alone, in a compartment. He was on the seat, cross-legged, eyes closed, hands on his…. KNEES (what'd you think I was gonna say…?), humming "A Pirate's Life for Me." When Neville poked his head in to see if he could sit down too, Harry quickly sat normally, put headphones on, and looked at Neville with an "I'm too cool to care" glance. Today he was in love with Ginny, and was in an extremely emo mood about it. (That often happened on the days that he was in love with girls.)

Neville, taking no notice, proceeded to prod his toad, Trevor, with his wand gently. With every prod, Trevor's appearance changed slightly. One moment he was purple. The next, he had large boils. The next, his eyes were as big as his head, and so on. Harry was watching bemusedly when Ginny came in to check on Harry. He flung himself at her feet, saying things like "I would die without you" and "Forgive me, I don't deserve you."

When Ginny left, Neville gave Harry a compassionate prod on the shoulder with his wand. Harry leapt up, and with the exclamation of, "I FEEL MUCH BETTER!" sprinted out of the compartment after Ginny.

OOOH. CLIFFHANGER. WHAT REALLY HAPPENED! I'll tell you when I'm not too lazy to write about it.

OK! My dilemma: Should Harry have a bit of slash-y feelings going on? (For real, not as part of his spell. Is the apron really a sign? …Stuff like that.) In other words, should he be a bit queer? He's emo, that's for sure. Sometimes he likes girls. But I just can't bring myself to make him totally gay. Maybe he could just be metrosexual. Email me!


	5. Generally Ginny!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Mhm, mhm, don't own Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione… BUT I DO OWN THEIR PERSONALITY QUIRKS IN MY STORY! So there. Don't own Avenue Q either. Wish I did… OR The Royal Tenenbaums. Arrrrr.

Gracias to Megan, my only reviewer. And my best friend. BUT NOT LIKE THAT! (LOL)

Seriously, people, if you're not reviewing, shame on you. SHAME! Review! Don't be scared, I won't make fun of you. You don't even have to do a GOOD review! If you hate it, TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT! .:giggles:.

Chapter Five: Generally Ginny!

(Flashback to chapter three, yo)

The Malfoy boys were (once again) discussing their narrow escape from the Weasley bunch, and pondering what, exactly, they had done to the girl Weasley. They couldn't quite put their finger on it. "I know it was something, like, totally embarrassing!" Draco gushed. "But I can't remember what I DID to her! She seems the most normal of the bunch… maybe it hasn't come up yet!" (OF COURSE IT HASN'T! What kind of writer do you think I am?)

"Yes… yes, Draco. Knowing you, it's something HORRENDOUS," stated Lucius. "What it is, however, will simply be a mystery until you get on the train for school…"

(End of flashback……….dun dun dun!)

Harry sprinted after Ginny down the length of the train, back to her compartment. His statements of "I would die without you" were gone, he simply sat there and stared at her with a sad look on his face. "I'm not in love with you anymore," He said.

"I didn't ever know that you were," Ginny lied. She inspected his face. Was it… sadness? Guilt? Anger?

"Let's not make this any more difficult than it already is," Harry sulked.

Ginny uncontrollably let out a "SQUEEEEEEEEEEAK" and continued… a little bit… like this….

"Right now you are down and out, and feeling really crappy," Ginny sang.

"I'll say," huffed Harry.

"And when I see how sad you are," continued Ginny, "It sort of makes me… happy!"

"HAPPY?" exclaimed Harry.

"Sorry Harry, human nature- nothing I can do! It's… SCHADENFREUDE! Making me feel glad that I'm not you!" Ginny crooned. She continued with the entire broadway number, ending with the "S-C-H-A-D-E-N-F-R-E-U-D-E!" on a particularly high note.

Harry thought to himself, _Now we know what's wrong with Ginny. We knew all along what was wrong with the rest of us… Ginny, apparently, bursts out into songs from Broadway musicals every so often. This should be easy to deal with… _Or so he thought.

The next day, at breakfast, Ginny, after seeing the tables in The Great Hall overloaded with their usual bacon, eggs, toast, PANCAKES, French toast, waffles, sausages, and muffins, burst into the song "Food, Glorious Food" from the musical _Oliver._

The next week in Hogsmeade, she stood on a hill overlooking The Shrieking Shack and proceeded to belt out "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music." When she gazed fondly at the goods that she could not afford in Zonko's Joke Shop, she sang "If I Were a Rich Man (GIRL)" from the musical _The Fiddler on the Roof. _(NOT GWEN STEFANI.)After seeing a poster advertising Broadway musicals in America, she hummed "America" from _West Side Story._ And at last, when she saw Harry at the end of the day, she sang "I've Grown Accustomed to His Face" from _My Fair Lady._

Harry, although he didn't care much about Ginny anymore, had taken to drinking copious amounts of firewhisky, butterbeer, or mead- whenever he could get his hands on them. Since they were strictly prohibited in the school, he stowed them in paper bags, and often could be seen sitting on the floor outside the Gryffindor common room, drinking out of a bottle hidden in the bag. He muttered things such as "WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME" and "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH" and "VOLDEMORT KILLED MY PARENTS!"

Ron was becoming more and more concerned about his inebriated friend. He would often come across a totally intoxicated Harry fallen over in the middle of the hall, singing Bright Eyes songs at the top of his voice. Not knowing what else to do, Ron dragged his drunk friend to the office of (who else?) Professor Dumbledore.

"Yo, D-Money. I needs some help wit' mah bro H-Dawg," Ron uttered. "He's out gettin' crunk all da time now, and I be thinkin' he need some help, yo!"

"Dat's coo, Terminator R. We'll be a-sendin' him to da hospiddle of Saint Mungo's soon, yo. He needs some help fo' real," Dumbledore expressed.

With a complete change of tone, Dumbledore said, "We'll be taking him there next Thursday. Thank you, Ronald, for your concern." And with a twinkle of his eyes, he dismissed them from his office.

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SO! That was the end of chapter 5! Review!

Here's stuff that I stole that's not from Harry Potter:

1. ----"I'm not in love with you anymore," He said.

"I didn't ever know that you were," Ginny lied. She inspected his face. Was it… sadness? Guilt? Anger?

"Let's not make this any more difficult than it already is," Harry sulked. ----

----From THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS (Margot and Eli's conversation)----

2. The song that Ginny sings is called "Schadenfreude" from the musical Avenue Q. Go download it, it's hilarious.

I'm gonna have to say thanks to my friends Megan and Kelly for the part where Harry yells things like "VOLDEMORT KILLED MY PARENTS" and "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH!" That was a night where we put bottles of Mountain Dew: Code Red in paper bags and pretended to be drunk… stayed up all night… and then went to see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban in the morning. I LURFFF YOU GUYS. That was good times, yo. Cause we're too cool to really get drunk.

REVIEW!


	6. Hedwig and going to the Hospital!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: Arrrrrrr I don't own this stuff, very unfortunately. .:Hides plans to take over the HP world under desk:….. I mean… what? Oh yeah, there's some RT in this too. Don't own that… And I don't own Blonde Redhead either. Kazu is my hero, but they're not my band.

Ummm yeah to my reviewers:

Dance to the RANDOMNESS: I really hope that middle part of your review was sarcasm… I would never do that. I'm not a Hermione-Draco shipper. That's just WRONNNNNG.

Megan: YAY MORE REVIEWS! Keepin' the numbers up, oh yeahhhhh

Chapter Six: Hedwig and the (going to the) Hospital!

(Flash Forward to Next Thursday)

Harry stood on the Astronomy Tower, stroking his pet owl, Hedwig. Glowing white in the darkness, she sat very calmly- or lazily- on his stable arm. She had a letter tied to her leg. It was addressed to Sirius Black. Even though Sirius, Harry's godfather had died the previous year, Harry refused to stop sending him letters. He stood with his arm straight out in front of him, Hedwig perched on it. "GO, HEDWIG!" He shouted to the feathery lump that was on his arm. But Hedwig refused to budge. Harry, disgruntled, shook his arm around to dislodge her, and eventually, with a fluttery "Squawk" she flew away into the darkness.

As Harry trudged back to the Gryffindor common room, adjusting his glasses, two figures leaped out of the darkness and pinned him to the floor.

"You're coming with us, Mister Potter," one of them said.

"Yeah, yo. You's gonna follow us, H-Dawg," the other stated.

The two as-yet-unknown (to Harry…) persons dragged the famous Mister Potter out past the grounds, and into a carriage. (At this time it was approximately 11:00.) The carriage carted them past hill and vale, over the river and through the woods, and hither and yon, until they reached their destination.

Their destination was… the London Underground. As they boarded the train, the clock struck midnight. Harry looked at Ron. "Midnight already?" Harry inquired.

"Fo shizzle," Ron oh-so-eloquently said.

The next moment, as Harry went to look at his second captor, his gaze passed a brown-haired girl, apparently riding the train home from work, sitting on a seat opposite them. She was totally oblivious to the newest passengers of the train compartment. Her friend, the blonde lass sitting next to her, was reading a book, but occasionally would look around curiously.

The brunette was sitting, humming along to the music on her iPod, knitting a green-and-silver scarf, minding her own business. Harry immediately sat down next to her and began giggling. Taking her headphones off, the girl looked at him, confused, and said simply "Can I help you?"

When there was no answer from her giggling, bespectacled counterpart, she re-applied the headphones and began to mind her own business again.

Her friend, however, scrutinized this newest member of the train compartment fiercely, but then turned back to her book, chuckling to herself. When she looked up again, her line of vision passed over the other two people standing next to the door. They really were quite silly, she thought. One of them was gangly with red hair, and the other one was ANCIENT looking. The red-haired boy was scrutinizing her just as fiercely as she had scrutinized everyone else, and his eyes caught the writing on her shirt. His face lighted up with glee.

"Yes! Ireland ROCKS!" he said, referring to her shirt.

She looked at him, unsure of what to think. Suddenly, she pulled a round, yellow object out of her bag. "Lemon?" she asked him, offering him the fruit.

"Thanks, yo…" he said, taking the lemon. "Hey, yo…" he continued. "This lemon is damaged like whoa, yo!" He pointed to a bruise on the fruit.

The blonde girl looked at him, confused. "It's…not my lemon," she said, and continued reading her book.

Meanwhile, Harry continued to giggle and stare. The girl finished the round on her scarf and attempted to turn off her iPod. It was, however, being inspected thoroughly by a tall man with a long white beard, wearing what appeared to be a dress. Confused, she took the MP3 player out of his wrinkled hands and said, "This is mine. I'm…" (she motioned to the door) LEAVING now. Have a nice day… I guess." She proceeded to exit the compartment.

Harry slumped where he sat. "Lost another one," he whimpered. He then extracted a flask from his back (BUTT) pocket, took a swig, curled up on the train seat, and went to sleep.

--- ----

Chapter… out!

The "GO, HEDWIG" thing is from the Royal Tenenbaums.

"Damaged Lemons" are from a Blonde Redhead album.

"Yes! Ireland ROCKS!" is from a creepy guy in a record store.

The part where the blonde girl says "It's not my lemon" was stolen from something I can't remember right now.

Review!


	7. Ronye's Rap

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Milfoils

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Harry Potter, Ronnie, Herm-pants, or Willy Wonka. That's right. HERMY-PANTS. (Don't own any Kanye West songs either.)

Yay to Megan, my only reviewer. OF COURSE SHE'S A MUGGLE… what are you talking about? I mean… those people aren't ANYTHING like us, right?

And to that person, Sir Lancelot… do you like… bowling? Cause I think I saw you bowling with Voldemort.

Oh yeah, and people, if you want to have non-fanfic related conversations, please keep it to my email or AIM. Both can be found on my profile.

Chapter Seven: Ronye's Rap

Harry woke up, rather confused. He was on a train seat, clutching a piece of dark green yarn. Where did the yarn come from? Why was he here? Why did the train smell like sheep?

"Good morning, Starshine!" Dumbledore twinkled down at him. "The Earth says… 'Hello!'"

Harry promptly fainted.

Ron prodded Harry in the shoulder when it was time to get up and go into the hospital. "Wake up, H-Dawg!" he said. "'S time to go! Go go go!" he shouted. Harry trudged in, very unwillingly.

Being now at the hospital, Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore tried to get Harry help for his drunkenness. They expressed his condition to the witch at the reception desk, and she sent them to an almost-full room to fend for themselves. The trio stood quietly in a corner. Harry was playing with a piece of yarn stolen from the brown-haired girl's scarf, and Ron was investigating his lemon. As they were called in to be seen by a healer, he gave it one last sniff and put it in his pocket.

The visit with the healer was brief. He just gave Harry a jab in the head with his wand, and, claiming Harry was all better, confiscated his booze and sent them on their way.

They were almost out of the building when they spotted a girl they knew. Lavender Brown, with long, blonde pigtails, was sitting next to her mother in the waiting room. Her mother, an older version of Lavender, was sitting, looking very understandably unhappy, with the stem of an artichoke stuck up her nose.

Lavender was looking very different than she had during the previous year. Under her regular Hogwarts' school robes she was wearing a miniskirt and very small tank top. Her legs were pencil-thin, and she was looking rather well-endowed in the rear end area.

She ran up to Ron and tackled him to the ground. "RONYE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" she gushed, without any appropriate punctuation. "THANKS TO YOUR WORKOUT PLAN I'M THE ENVY OF ALL MY FRIENDS!" she squealed in his face.

Harry looked rather indignant. "Whose workout plan? Ronye's? Who's Ronye? Aren't you thinking of… Kanye?" He brandished the yarn in her face.

"I REMEMBER IT SAYING RONYE! I DO I DO I DO!" Lavender babbled.

"Whatever, yo," Ron said, and exited the building.

Scene change, yo

Voldemort stood, observing a shelf of round globes. Selecting one, he sat down with his blonde-pony tailed friend. "I really don't see why you didn't just off them all while you had the chance!" he exclaimed. "Really, Lucius, why'd you have to curse them like that? Wouldn't it just be easier to…" he continued, but a smaller blonde boy pointed to a television above them.

"Your turn to bowl, Mr. Dark Lord," he stammered.

Voldemort hoisted himself up out of his chair. "Already time, Draco?" he inquired. "Ah, well," he said, and, clutching his neon-pink bowling ball that he had selected earlier, he strode up to the lane.

Bending over, he pushed the ball towards the pins. It got halfway there, and stopped.

"Really, Lord Voldemort, you should strengthen up," Lucius said. With a flick of his wand, the bowling ball spun towards the pins and knocked them over in a strike.

They looked up at the scoreboard. Voldemort had ten strikes, Lucius had ten spares, and Poor Little Draco was stuck with zero.

--- ---

Not that long, but I had to write something.

We went bowling. My name was Voldemort. I had a pink ball. That explains THAT.

The end!


	8. Girls and Hair Gel!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys 

.:cracks up:. I just realized that on chapter seven, Microsoft Word changed the title to The Magical Tale of the Mischievous Milfoils! (WTF IS A MILFOIL!) Hahahahahahaha! No really. What IS a milfoil? Well, according do it's a plant. .:shrugs:. It sounds funny anyway. Go look at it, laugh at it, Microsoft Word is stupid. D

Disclaimer: Don't own this stuff. I wish I owned some milfoils. Dang. That would be pretty cool. But seriously, I'm not a thief. (NOT EVEN A MILFOIL THIEF.)

MEGHAN: WOO REVIEWS! Crookskanks…is… awesome.

Anne: You're my favorite sister evarrrrrr… wait… I mean… you're my only sister… Love you anyways!

Woooo reviews. Yaaaay reviews. More reviews are needed. KTHXBAII. (That was my inner evil scenester coming out in me. Sorry. It won't happen again.)

Chapter Eight: Girls and (Hair) Gel

D-Money, H-Dawg, and Ronye walked through the doors of Hogwarts Castle, through the entrance hall, and on to the GREAT HALL. (Yeah… all caps. It's that great.) All of the students watched them as they walked to their tables. With an extra little skip, Dumbledore ascended the stairs to the teachers' table. "It is now the hour to chomp through our divine banquet that was created just for us. Noooooow… go!" He commanded.

All of the students, being the perfect little piggies that they are, began to eat. Harry and Ron, however, just sat there and looked at their gold-plated plates. (Plated plates… hehehe.)

Harry looked from Seamus and Dean, quite engaged in conversation, to Ginny, who was halfway through her quiche, humming "If You Were Gay" from _Avenue Q._ Ron was gazing fondly at his bruised lemon, totally uninterested in the scantily clad Lavender clutching at his arm frantically.

Hermione was getting all sniffly as FredandGeorge simultaneously consoled her by letting her lean on them. Neville and Luna were, Harry saw, happily snogging away a few seats down.

After observing all of this, Harry felt slightly nauseous. He got up, and with a strange harrumphing noise, stomped off towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Lobbing himself down on a red-and-gold striped sofa, he began to sob.

"Why oh why does everyone run away from me…" he began, but was interrupted by Hermione, who stood giggling at his side.

"H-H-HARRY!" She exclaimed. "What's wr-(giggle)-ong?"

"OH, NOTHING," Harry said, in all capitals. "ONLY THE FACT THAT EVERYTHING I LOVE RUNS AWAY FROM ME."

"Well," Hermoine snickered, seeing that he was upset. She took this as her only chance of escape. "I've got to be---going---to---READ A BOOK! That's it," she said, running up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

And Harry promptly cried himself to sleep on the couch.

The next morning, Harry awoke to someone prodding him with a stick. He opened his eyes to see Ronye standing above him. This morning, Ron was dressed very oddly.

He was donned in purple, fur-trimmed robes and a matching wizards' hat with feathers in it, clutching a gold-plated cane. On the end of the cane, where there should be a handle, there was a lemon.

"Well, H-Dawg, you're in quite a pickle, bro," Ron stated. "But there, I can help you out."

"Y-y-y-(yawn)-ou can!" Harry exclaimed.

"Absolutely, yo," Ron smirked.

He promptly rapped Harry on the head with his cane, and said, "Where you at, bro!"

Then he strutted away.

Harry was left, confused, massaging the sore spot on his head.

"That Ron-Turned-Pimp opened my eyes to the horribly boring person that I really am!" Harry marveled. (Because that's what people do… they have revelations from random events… of course. Mhm. No doubt about it.) "I need to be more… dashing! Daring! Gay!" Harry sang. "Well… scratch that last one. But I do need to get up out of my rut and do something about my hair!"

He proceeded to skip up the stairs to the dormitories and apply hefty amounts of hair gel to his scraggly, outsized hair.

The end… Um… it wasn't the best, but I hope SOMEBODY likes it.

School starts in three days, so I won't be writing as much…

Once again, if anybody has any suggestions from the story, I'll be happy to use them and give you credit!


	9. Hair Dye and Happenings!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys (NOT MILFOILS)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No. No way. .:shoves him back in her closet:. No. You didn't see that. No way. .:throws a loaf of bread in after him:. Oh, that bread? It's for… it's for the mice. And the cockroaches. Yeah. Mhm. You gonna leave?

Many reviews have arrived! Well… just two. Many thanks!

Jollie Killjoy: Glad you liked it! Feel free to be a-stealin' the rave scene, just give me credit… D

Megan: Lemon-y freshness comes in Lemon-y cane form! ((So fresh and so clean, clean! (OUTKAST, WOO!))

DANCE to the Randomness: Will do! Get prepared for gay-tastic events to come!

Chapter Nine: Hair Dye and Happenings!

A certain, bespectacled, dark-haired boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror in his dormitory. Except that today, instead of dark hair, the tufts of hair on top of his head was coated in thick white paste.

"Since I failed miserably at human transfiguration," Harry mused to himself, "I might as well do it the good old fashioned muggle way." Smearing more paste on his head, he smiled happily. "No one will know what hit me… I mean… them!" he exclaimed.

He sat down on the toilet across from his chosen mirror and began to daydream about his shiny new hair. Soon, however, his daydreaming turned to nightdreaming.

He woke up, confused. _Why is the floor so hard? _Harry wondered. _And why is my scalp burning?_ He wondered even further.

He stood up and looked in the mirror. His now extremely stiff and tousled hair was still covered in white paste, which was beginning to harden. "Well, I might as well hop in the shower and get this bloody stuff washed out," he said happily to himself.

_Five Minutes Later…_

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry exclaimed, jumping at the sight of himself in the mirror. Peering closer at himself, he wondered at what his hair looked like now.

At the roots, it was clear. Down near the ends, it grew in color to a deep orange. It looked, he thought, like his head was on fire.

"Well," Harry sulked, "I can always dye it back tomorrow." He shook his fist at the Clairol box of bleach. "Never again! No, never again will I use this sad excuse for hair dye!" he shouted, and jamming a beanie over his now multicolored hair, he stomped down to class.

_Later that day, In double Transfiguration with the Slytherins…_

"MISTER POTTER!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "YOU MAY NOT WEAR THAT RIDICULOUS CONTRAPTION IN THIS CLASSROOM."

"It's called a hat," Harry smirked, "And if I don't wear it, you will all… be…" He tried to think of words to get him out of this awful situation. "BLINDED BY MY…BALDNESS!"

"Baldness?" Seamus inquired, with an exceedingly annoying accent. "You weren't bald yesterday!"

"Well yes," Harry explained, "There was a horrible accident in Potions the other day. It seems that when Professor Snape was leaning over Ron- excuse me- Ronye's cauldron, some of his face-grease dripped into the mixture. I, as Ron-I MEAN Ronye's ((this was prompted by an extremely nasty glance from Ron- I mean Ronye)) best friend, was sitting next to him, and the explosion was just too much for my little bitty hairs to bear."

"Well, Mister Potter, would you kindly explain why Mister Weasley's hair is still in place?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

"Well-I-He-We---Er…" Harry began, but was interrupted again by his teacher.

"If you will please kindly take off your hat, if that IS what you call it," Minerva said, "for we all know you haven't gone bald, Mister Potter."

Very angstily indeed, Harry ripped the hat off his head. "SEE!" He shouted, pointing to his hair, which was standing straight up on top of his head. "SEE WHAT INFERIOR HAIR PRODUCTS DO TO THE BOY WHO LIVED!"

Amid the snickers of the class, a single voice could be heard. "Well, Potter," a smirking blonde boy said straight into Harry's ear. "If you'd come by the Room of Requirement tomorrow evening, I'll be glad to show you how to…" (He looked around sneakily) "set it right," Malfoy said, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

"BACK TO YOUR SEATS, EVERYONE!" Professor McGonagall said, and with a glance in Harry's direction, Malfoy strutted back to his seat.

WELL! I hope everybody liked it better than the last chapter, I did, anyway.


	10. Wonders and Wanderings!

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

Disclaimer: Don't own this stuff. Blargh. I really think I might stop putting these at the top.

PenPal13: Muchos Gracias! I love Milfoils, too. I even made a screenname about it. Milfoil Madness. Go ahead and IM me if you want.

Mrs. Radcliffe 13: Well… that's a good question. One of the many answers is, that in my story, he has not yet "Come out of the closet." OR HAS HE! Perhaps he escaped in the night, there's no knowing these things with Harry Potter. (Seriously, though, I really just WISH he was in my closet. I'd be really really really really (x 1,000,000) happy if he was there.

Dance to the RANDOMNESS: Cookies are good… But is that what they will do!

Megan: That eyebrow wiggle worried me a little bit too, when I wrote about it. We'll see.

Ridikulus3000: Thank you much! I added some!

Countessvorkosigan: Oh yes, very much so!

Miss Sunkist: Thanks so much! Megan is the BEST!

Chapter Ten (WOW Can you believe I made it this far…?): Wonders and Wandering!

"Oh! My! God!" Harry gushed to his best friend. "Like… what do you think we'll do tomorrow? Ohmygosh I can't believe I have a date with Draco Malfoy! I must be the luckiest witch… er… wizard in the school!"

Hermione looked at him blankly. "Frankly, Harry, I don't know whether to laugh or cry," she said. (And this, of course, cured her from her previous ailment of crying when she was happy and laughing when she was sad. Sorry people, she's just… not a major character in this fic. If you protest, I'll have someone jinx her again…)

"Well, laugh, because I have a date with the smexiest- I mean… most well known…" Harry trailed off, his eyes glazing over at the dreaminess of it all.

"Harry, is there something you're not telling us?" Hermione asked.

Harry snapping back into reality, retorted, "Of course not, Hermy-Pants, Malfoy is just teaching me how to dye my hair. Or perhaps… bake some cookies…" He said this last part very quietly to himself. "He can bake _my_ cookies any day, that Malfoy can…" he continued.

"Anyways, Lady Bushy Hair, I must be off to, erm… get ready… to… um… go… on my date… erm… scratch that… to… see Malfoy!" He dashed up the stairs to change his clothes and apply Green Apple body spray- I MEAN… very-manly cologne.

At the very moment Harry darted up the stairs, Ronye paraded in. "Yo, boo! You lookin' damn fine today, if I do step correct," he said.

"Yes Ron, I have no idea what you just said, but have you noticed anything odd about Harry lately?"

"Fo shizzle, boo! Eva' since I be hittin' him on tha head with this here pimp wand-cane, he's been a little whack," Ron continued.

Harry's mind had, in fact, been altered by Ron's "Pimp Wand Cane," for when Ronye administered that rap on the head, the old curse had lifted. However, when the old one lifted, a new one was put on… can you guess what it was? (LOL this reminds me of a documentary… or something)

"Yes, dearest Ronald, I believe you are right," Hermione stated. "However, as I cannot understand a word you're saying, I'm going to agree with whatever you say."

Ronye took the bling off from around his neck and put it on Hermione. "Boo, you got me straight trippin, yo," he said, and strutted off.

Hermione, taking this as a compliment, blushed and giggled.

A Few Minutes Later…

Harry was galloping down the hall toward the Room of Requirement. Thoughts were racing through his mind about what might happen with Malfoy. Would they play board games? Would they bake cookies? Would they really fix his hair? Slowing down, he wondered how many boys Malfoy had lured into this same trap. Sure, he was sexy. But was he sincere?

Harry stood before the wood of the door to the Room of Requirement before him. The clock struck 10, and he took a deep breath. He opened the door, and to his surprise, saw many boys sitting on pink cushions set up in a semi-circle around the point of focus. (We'll get to the point of focus in a few minutes.)

Many teenage boys sat, perched on these amorous cushions. (Yes, cushions can be amorous.) They sat, somewhere between befuddled and love struck, in a room that was be-sparkled with pink and bright green accents. There were various pictures of the youngest Malfoy on the walls, ranging from pink-and-green Picassos to some that looked vaguely like manga Draco flashing a peace sign. In all of the pictures, his head was topped with a sparkling, gleaming, white-blonde mop of hair.

Harry alighted a cushion and gazed around the room, at his fellow perchees. (AKA the guys on cushions.) Some of their hair was orange. Some of their hair was brown. Some of their hair was flame-colored, like Harry's. Some boys even had hair that was a rather greenish tinge, rather like old vomit.

It was obvious what Harry had just come across.

A hair-coloring class, complete with a table full of freshly baked cookies and lemonade in the corner.

---

That's all! More to come uber-soon! Read! Review! Yay! And if you haven't been reading my disclaimer thingies at the beginning, it could have something to do with you, so go back and read them.


	11. Dastardly Draconian Deeds

The Magical tale of the Mischievous Malfoys

FINALLY, after about a year of absence… I have returned to the scene of the crime. I'm back, folks, and I'm not stoppin'.

Disclaimer:…..No.

PenPal13: Gracias! You can always email me!

CherryIzzy: Glad to know you liked it, anyways. It's a little disturbing… I'm a little insane… it's all good.

Megan: Thanks for keeping my comment count up! Yarrrrr….yay!

Everybody else who commented in my absence: …I love you guys.

Chapter Eleven: Dastardly Draconian Deeds

"Welcome to Master Malfoy's Hair Coloring Class for Hirsute Mishaps! Take a seat on any cushion! Make yourself at home! Have some home-made cookies!" a sparklingly blonde boy said from the front of the classroom.

Harry gaped at the scene around him. He thought he would be having a romantic interlude! Not a mass-migration of boys with oddly colored hair!   
Unfortunately, the only cushion left unoccupied was the one directly to the right of Malfoy. The masterful Mister Malfoy had planned this quite sneakily. He knew Harry well enough to presuppose that he'd be late, so he placed a small pink "Reserved" sign on this very cushion.

Since Harry had no idea of this, however, he simply plopped himself down cross-legged on the empty cushion, rested his elbows on his knees, his head on his hands, and began to gaze fondly at the squeaking blonde boy at the front of the room.

Another thing that the bespectacled boy did not know was that he was sitting in Dearest Draco's chosen "Volunteer" seat. This meant that poor, dear, unsuspecting Harold would be the subject of demonstration.

With a wave of his wand and a flash of pinky-mauve light, a table of mysterious hair-altering chemicals appeared in front of Draco.

"Now!" he squeaked. Holding up a bottle of regular old muggle bathroom bleach, he asked, "Who knows what this melodious substance is?"

"MELODIOUS! THAT'S CLOROX!" Harry interrupted. "I spent half my life up to my elbows in that crap, cleaning up after you barbarians, and you want me to put it on my head!" he fumed effeminately.

"Ah ah ah, dearest Harry-boy," Draco teased. "This isn't your stinking muggle aunt's bathroom cleaner."

He took out a small eyedropper-type instrument, and with it, squirted a few drops onto Harry's head. With a heavenly "Aaaaaaaa" like a chorus of cherubs, Harry's whole head glowed, then rapidly turned to a striking violet-purple color.

Watching Harry gape at his reflection in a nearby mirror, Draco began to speak. "It's not just any random chemical you throw on your hair! It's my own special blend, created to mask any hair mishaps and match your haircolor to your mood of the moment! But beware, overprocessing with this special substance can make some very funny things happen to your head!"

It was now clear why all these boys were here. It was that Dastardly Draco and his infamous product placement- they were all sitting around in what was the wizard equivalent of a Tupperware party!

Harry, befuddled and disappointed, sank back onto his cushion, staring at his now perfectly purple hair, and began to sob.

That's it, kids. Review!


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